The Heretics of De'Ath (The Chronicles of Brother Hermitage Book 1) by Howard of Warwick

Author:Howard of Warwick
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: The Funny Book Company
Published: 2013-11-07T16:00:00+00:00

…

At that moment, the sensible chap was very down to earth. He was down on the earth, cursing it for holding him up and preventing the descent into hell, which was all that he deserved. He had wallowed in some filth for a while, spent a good long time thumping one of the open wounds on his leg, and then had a spell of pulling his hair out by the roots. Even by the extremely dubious standards of the day, there was something very wrong with the Abbot.

His abiding desire to keep himself to himself suited everyone eminently, and so he carried on unobserved. Occasionally there was discussion amongst the Brotherhood about how exactly this man had got to be an Abbot in the first place, and more interestingly how he managed to remain one. He didn't seem to do any of the Abbot-like things that others did. He never visited anyone, from the Bishop to the local poor.

It had been suggested once that he should visit the local poor, but there had been such strong objections from the poor that the event had been cancelled.

Some speculated this was one of those ancient positions where the Abbot was appointed in perpetuity and couldn't be removed, even by the Pope. Others opined that he had performed some great and terrible service for the Church so all his odd behaviour was excused. Most prevalent was the idea that he had something on the Bishop and so could pretty much do what he liked. In any event, what he liked doing wasn't very nice at all and so people kept their distance.

Athan knocked again at the Abbot's study and this time he was answered quickly. He pushed the door gently open and peered around the corner. It seemed that the light of day was as reluctant to enter as any penitent. It was so dark that he had to step inside to find the Abbot and gestured Hermitage to follow.

The young monk had seen the Abbot three times now and the occasions were getting progressively worse. The Abbot had surpassed himself. The wizened old man was sitting on the floor of his cell and had clearly been punishing himself comprehensively for some considerable time. Obviously he hadn't eaten or drunk anything, but that hadn't stopped the rest of his bodily functions continuing as normal.

His drool was of a particularly gelatinous consistency and his incoherent mumbling was positively disturbing. As Hermitage beheld the scene before him his hopes dipped. He wanted the Abbot to be coherent and decisive, not gibbering and offensive. There was little hope of help from this quarter. Still, better get the man to put some clothes on.

Athan stepped back and pushed Hermitage into the doorway, blocking the entrance of the others. He closed the door, glaring and hissing instructions to Hermitage.

After a few moments the door was opened and Athan beckoned the others in. The Abbot was now in his habit and on his stool. It was as much as anyone could hope for.

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